Retribution
by f-romanoff-13
Summary: It's been a while since the events of 'Vindictive' No one has seen or heard from Nicholas Nazari in months, then things start going wrong and the team once again find themselves the target of a man on a quest for revenge. ***Sequel to my fic VINDICTIVE***
1. Chapter 1

This is a sequel to my fic **Vindictive**; I suggest reading that first as this follows on

* * *

It hadn't taken long for the whole mission to go to shit.

Infiltrate, get the intel, get out; easy. An empty house on the outskirts of Paris, it was in disarray; neglected for years, wooden beams and half used paint pots littered the halls from when someone had tried, and failed to restore the previously impressive building.

It should have been simple. It _would_ have been easy if the house was in fact empty. But instead they were met with 25 armed guards who had seemingly been expecting them...

They shot Clint in the shoulder before he'd even fully entered through the third floor window. They'd entered here because the intel they were after was supposedly kept on the third floor, not to mention the roof gave them easier access than the enormous front door, which was apparently the only entrance which was alarmed.

Natasha climbed in swiftly through the window after her partner, firing as she did, wondering what else about this mission would not be as they were expecting.

She took down six of the men easily but felt herself swaying slightly when a needled was stabbed in the back of the neck. She could see Clint fighting, despite the bullet wound in his shoulder; he'd taken down another four. So that left 15 still alive, but she could only count 12. Where had the others gone?

Her aim was slightly off as her head swam; she _hated_ being drugged, but she fired off another round of shots anyway. Another three down, Clint gazed at her, he knew she'd normally have taken down more than that; her aim was nearly as good as his.

Clint was unable to use his bow, and Natasha's aim was ever worsening; they needed to get out and regroup. Silently, they commuted this to each other and both turned for the door at the same time. Natasha got there first as she remembered the three missing men, they had been waiting for them to flee and swung a wooden beam at her, knocking her off balance and down the flight of stairs.

Clint was by her side a moment later, he'd killed the men at the top of the stairs, but the remaining few would be after them in no time; the smoke grenade he's had in his pocket (intending to use it to prank Fury) wouldn't keep them confused for long.

"It's not that bad" Natasha told Clint, trying to believe her own words.

She knew he was worried, a simple mission like this one meant they didn't require back up, there was no emergency evacuation and there would be no medical team standing by. It was just the two of them, and a small jet parked several miles south. The next time a 'simple' mission was offered to them, they'd make sure to take Coulson up on the offer of a safe house 'Just in case

Clint placed his hand on the back of her head and withdrew it to find blood coating his shaking fingers.

"We've got to move Nat, are you with me?"

She nodded, he was right. They needed to get out of here, this whole thing was a set up and they'd both been injured.  
Clint helped her to her feet as they heard movement from above.  
She stumbled and clutched his arm for balance, he didn't know about the drugs she'd been injected with, only the whack to the head she'd taken. And for now it'd have to remain that way; worrying him now could only serve to get one or both of them killed.

"Tasha?"

"I'm good. I'm good"

Clint's left arm was pretty much useless; he couldn't carry her with a wound like that, so he had to settle for wrapping his right arm round her waist, helping to support her weight and guiding her forward as a shower of gunfire caught up to them.

Once out of the house, Clint threw one of his exploding arrows just inside the doorway, bringing it down on top of the nine men who were still alive.

"What the fuck was that?!" Clint asked, outraged

Natasha was slumped by a tree and shrugged in response

"Let me have a look at your head" he told her, rather than asked, striding the short distance to be by her side

"Let me look at your arm first"

"Can you even see straight? It was a pretty nasty knock the head you took"

"Which one? The one where I was hit with a beam, or the one where my head collided with the wall at the bottom of the stairs"

"Natasha, do you have a concussion?"

"It'd seem likely"

"What's your favourite food?"

"Salmon"

"Tasha, you don't like fish"

"Salmon is fish?"

Yep, she was definitely concussed, and it was fast catching up with her as the adrenalin in her system started depleting  
"You're definitely not looking at my arm"

"Well you're not looking at mine either"

"Well, it's a good job I want to look at your head then" he told her, dragging her away from the tree to get a better look at the heavily bleeding laceration at the back of her head. Moving her long red hair out of the way he saw the puncture mark of the needle, and a steadily growing bruise surrounding it

"Nat, did you get injected with something?"

"Yeah, it hurts" she said, swatting his hand away when he pressed his thumb to her neck

"Well, that just makes everything much worse" he deadpanned

"You're such a pessimist" she told him, closing her tired eyes

"With good reason" he told her, but she didn't hear him; she had already passed out


	2. Chapter 2

"Okay Fury, what happened?"

"Mister Stark, to what do I owe the pleasure?" the director deadpanned as Tony strolled across his office without so much as knocking

"They were due back yesterday"

"They were"

"And they're not back..."

"No. They're not"

Tony glared at him; he was really making this hard work. "Why aren't they back?"

"Barton and Romanoff will be back when they're back. It doesn't concern you"

"Come on Fury, they shouldn't be late on this one"

"How much do you know exactly?" Fury asked, finally looking up from his work to glare at the man stood opposite

"I know it was a simple retrieval mission, some old headquarters of some research facility on the outskirts of Paris which was supposedly abandoned years ago. You wanted the data which had been left there... Nat and Clint should have been in and out and back long before now and you know it"

"How do you know that Stark?"

"I always hack your mission files when you're sending those two off. They're my team and I always have their back.; which means I also know you haven't heard anything from them in over 48 hours"

"Stark. This is shield business!"

"So tell me what you're doing to track them down and I'll stay out of it"

"Agent Hill is on her way to Paris as we speak"

"One agent? That's it? That's all you could spare? And no offence, but if Barton and Romanoff are in trouble, what makes you think Agent Hill can handle this?"

"We're not even sure there is anything to handle Stark. There are hundreds of explanations as to why Barton and Romanoff are late"

"Whatever Fury, you tell Hill that I'm on my way" and with that he stormed out the room, instantly donning his suit and flying off. There was no time to spare; he just had a bad feeling about this...


	3. Chapter 3

It was a difficult task for Clint; the French Police would be arriving any minute to secure the collapsed building, and he had no reasonable explanation for the 25 dead men they would discover inside, nor did he or Natasha have any ID on them, no cover story in place and no right to even be in the country. It didn't give him any time to search the men to find out who they were or who sent them; he was desperately trying to figure out how they'd known to expect them; there was a very real risk more men would be sent after them any minute and neither of them were in a position to fight or run...

Right now he needed to get himself and Natasha somewhere safe. He was still bleeding rather a lot and she was unconscious; which made it a rather painful and slow process to move her.

The rough, uneven terrain, dark starless night and damp, cloying mud made it a battle for him to make much progress, so when he managed to find a small, empty outhouse two hours later; it'd have to do as shelter.

Lying Natasha down on his jacket, trying his best to ensure her comfort and keep her warm, he double checked her head wound. It wasn't too bad, it was still bleeding but it was minimal. There was little else he could do for his partner; he suspected the drugs in her system were doing more to keep her under than the hits to the head, and he was beginning to get severely worried.

Taking a seat beside her and resting her head in his lap, he fashioned a sort of sling out of the material of his top; he hoped keeping his arm stable would help dull the aching, throbbing pain resonating down his arm with every slight movement. Thinking about what tomorrow would bring; he wasn't sure he could pilot the jet with only one good arm, and even if he could; it would still take days to reach it. Their only hope of getting back was if Natasha woke and was coherent enough to fly.  
Resting his head back against the cold, damp wall, and gently stroking the hair from Natasha's face, he took some deep breaths and ignored the feeling of helplessness as it began to creep in; they only means of contacting either shield or the Avengers was the system on the jet several miles away. As the night wore on, his eyelids became heavy and he eventually gave in to sleep.

The sun began to rise, and Clint woke suddenly as he heard heavy footsteps rapidly approaching. He slipped one of Natasha's guns from the holster and crouched protectively infront of her. Timing it right; he stood, turned, and found himself aiming the weapon at none other than Iron Man.

"Clint!" he exclaimed, flipping up the face plate and smiling happily at his formerly missing friend. "Are you okay?" he asked, noticing his blood soaked shirt and the makeshift sling.

"Did Fury send you?"

"No, he sent Hill. I sent myself. Hill got tied up talking to the police so I came out here to see if I could track you down"

"We need to get Nat to medical" he told Tony quickly, his brain finally catching up with the situation after a sleepless night and sudden awakening.

Tony looked at him, asking silently where she was; so Clint stepped aside and gestured to her motionless form on the ground inside the outhouse.

"What on earth happened?!" Tony asked, gathering up Natasha in his arms and setting off back towards the quinjet Maria had used to get there.

"They were waiting for us... It was ambush and we were outnumbered" was all Clint cared to share right now. Now that someone else was here, he felt his panic rising. He'd managed to remain calm up until now; purely because he'd had to. But now that control was ebbing away as he watched Tony picking up his pace.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time they approached the jet, Clint was beginning to feel a little lightheaded; not having eaten or drank anything for a fair while accompanying the blood loss he'd suffered due to the gunshot wound still seeping blood from his shoulder.

He locked eyes with Hill who waited patiently, and one look was all it took to confirm it wasn't good news;

"The French government refuse to help. They state we had no rights to that research and no clearance to even be in the country... I could stay and argue, I know I can win because we _did_ have clearance, but it could take a while..."

"They won't help?! But they need medical attention!" Tony insisted, moving his head slightly as Natasha's blood soaked hair blew in his face.

"Ideally we need to get back to shield, we could head to a closer base..." Maria offered, glancing to Clint and seeming leaving the call to him.

"No, we'll head back to New York" he stated.

He knew Natasha would be pissed at waking up in the infirmary; but waking up in an unfamiliar infirmary, with strange doctors in a random city would do nothing to help the situation. Besides, right now she was stable, her breathing was regular, pulse was strong and the bleeding had stopped. The jet would make relatively good time, and it would be worth it to be somewhere they both knew would be secure.

He noticed the glances both Hill and Stark gave him before they boarded the jet; it wasn't necessarily Natasha they were concerned about right now... They were both waiting for him to pass out, but he wouldn't let himself, not until he knew his partner was safe.

Once they reached medical, some 6 hour later; Natasha was promptly checked over while Clint declined all medical attention. She was deemed to be okay and after a few stitches to the laceration on her head, followed by blood samples being taken for testing; Clint finally relented and let the doctors look at his shoulder.

"Clint, Fury needs to see you" Coulson informed him from the doorway of his hospital room. Clint winced as the doctor finished the last stitch and stuck a piece of gauze over the wound. Slipping his arm into a sling he shook his head at his handler; "Not now Coulson. We're waiting to see of the techs can identify what Nat was injected with"

"Clint. He needs to talk to you _now_"

He sensed the tone in Phil's voice and nodded, following him out of the infirmary with one glance back over his shoulder at Natasha; she was lay peacefully on the hospital bed, Tony by her side; blissfully oblivious to everything going on around her. And all Clint wanted was to be by her bedside when she woke...

"Barton. Sit down" the director instructed him, nodding a greeting as the archer entered the office. Clint noticed Coulson didn't stay for the meeting; so either he was in trouble, or Fury had bad news for him. He'd put money on the latter...

"We've had confirmation that the ambush in Paris was set up by Nazari"

"I thought you'd tracked him back to Russia?"

"We had... His influence is long reaching; moreso than we initially thought. The men who attacked you were rouge French agents who were thought to be imprisoned and awaiting trial. The French government sends their apologies for-"

"I don't care. How the hell did Nazari know we were assigned that mission?"

"Clint, we're still-"

"I know I know! You're still looking into it. But we have a serious problem here Fury! Nazari wants me and Nat dead, and he wants us to suffer. Last time he came after us he teamed up with the Red Room and targeted the entire team, who says they're not in danger too... Did you contact Bruce yet? Or Steve? Because they could be in very real danger and aren't here to be warned!"

"Dr. Banner is in India and is proving difficult to contact. Rogers is at the Army base Fort Wainwright; he's on his way back now"

"What about Natasha? Do you know-"

"Nazari contacted us 20 minutes ago regarding the drugs administered to Romanoff"

"And?" Clint prompted urgently

"The compound is one developed from what they used to use in the Red Room; It's part of the protocol they used to alter and erase memories. It's been altered slightly to try and change the way it works, they intend to wipe her memories from the last seven years; revert her to the assassin she was when she was still loyal to them..."

The words hung in the air as Clint struggled to take a breath; he couldn't lose her.  
To them; this was a fate worse than death, too much like the torment they went through the previous year when Loki had twisted him into someone she didn't recognise; all traces of the man she loved, gone.  
There's no way he could face looking into those emerald eyes and seeing a cold, stone faced assassin. No recognition; seven years of memories erased in an instant...  
This was what she'd been terrified of ever since he'd brought her in. She'd instructed him that she'd rather die than be forced to be that person again; it wasn't her, it never was. She was molded and sculpted; forced into the person she needed to embrace in order to survive.  
Clint had taken her away from that, freed her and given her the chance to really be her. And he'd do it again if he had to. He wasn't ready to say goodbye.

"There's got to be a way to stop it!" he was almost pleading now as the panic rose within him to almost hysterical levels.

"Nazari has a cure, but Clint. There's no way to-"

"What does he want? Anything, we need to give him anything to prevent this"

"Barton we can't-"

"What-does-he-want?" Clint growled, slowly and clearly; letting his anger show.

"You"


	5. Chapter 5

Clint stood abruptly, sending his chair to floor with a loud clatter. His fists were clenched and his jaw set; Nazari would pay for this.

"Barton, don't do anything rash. We'll figure this out. We have a few leads and-"

"You can't let Nazari do this to her. You find a cure, or I hand myself over"

"I don't intend to lose either of you Barton" Fury told him seriously, and for once Clint believed him. But intentions were one thing... The reality was, at this moment it was him or her; and there was no way he was going to let Nazari take her.

Fury gave his word he would do everything in his power to find a cure for Natasha, every scientist and doctor working for shield would be working on it, but in the back of his mind; Clint was already coming up with a back up plan.

He strode back down the hallway towards Natasha's room, avoiding the curious gazes of his fellow agents who were all clearly wondering why Hawkeye was in such a foul mood. His anger only worsened when he saw the armed guards stationed outside her door; they were already preparing for the worst; that they wouldn't find a cure, that she'd revert back to the brain-washed assassin loyal only to the red room; and they'd have to take her out.

She was just beginning to stir as Clint entered her room. He strolled quickly to her side, completely ignoring Tony's questioning and held her cheeks firmly in his strong hands;

"Natasha, Tasha listen to me. I need to fight it. I need you to be strong and I need you to remember who you are" he spoke low and firm, his face only inches from hers as she started to come round.

"Clint? What's going on?" Tony asked urgently. He hated being out of the loop, and felt this was one of the situations where he really needed to be in the know.

"Nazari. This whole thing was him"

"Shit!"

Tony had been there last time Nazari had waged his war against the two assassins. He blamed them for his daughter's suicide and grandson's murder, and he was determined to take them down at any cost. He had connections inside shield, he had agreements with the Red Room and associates worldwide; he was dangerous and The Avengers were his top target.

"Clint?" Natasha's voice broke through Clint and Tony's thoughts, snapping them both back to reality.

"Nat? Oh thank God!"

Tony left the room, leaving the two assassins to be together while he pulled out his phone and scrolled through everything he had on Nicolas Nazari; they knew he'd be back, and Tony had spent every spare minute trying to track him down before he had chance to strike. everything had taken a back seat to trying to locate the terrorist, and he still hadn't been able to pinpoint his location, and once again; his friends had suffered at Nazari's hands.

Back inside the small hospital room Natasha was beginning to panic;

"Clint?"

"I'm right here Tasha"

"Clint!"

"Tasha, Tasha can you hear me?"

She didn't respond, just a slight groan in pain as she shifted and put pressure on her head wound. He lifted her hand to his face and kissed her bloodied knuckles.

The contact seemed to startle her, but running her hands over his face relaxed her, she turned to face his direction but her eyes were dilated and unfocused

"Clint, I can't see, I can't hear... I can't remember- I don't understand..." her voiced was laced with fear and pain, and Clint felt his chest tighten.

A tear rolled down his face and fell to her cheek. How was he going to help her remember, help her keep a grasp on reality if he couldn't communicate with her.

She was starting to fade away right in front of him and he couldn't bear to watch...

He bent low and left a long, lingering kiss on her lips before leaving the room.

"Keep her safe Tony" he told Stark, who was sitting on a chair just outside her room

"Where are you going?" Tony asked, standing as Clint stalked down the hallway towards the exit, weapons in hand.

"I'm going to find Nazari"


End file.
